Title: stroke my head and I will follow you anywhere
Fandom: Ensemble Stars!
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kaoru/Souma
Wordcount: 3,400
Summary: Kaoru thought he was over getting all weird and emotional at random times just because something reminded him of his mom, but Souma can't seem to stop making his life more difficult.
(By the way, mods, the fandom 'Ensemble stars' has been tagged twice, once with an exclamation point and once without. Either version is fine!)

“Oto-something-or -other~”

The other 2-A kids glance up at him briefly, but he has just as little interest in them as they ultimately have in him. He finds his target sitting up in the front row of the classroom, which he should’ve seen coming. (Nerd.)

Adonis looks up, eyebrows raised. “Hakaze-sempai. Is there something wrong?”

“Kiiinda,” Kaoru says, ambling over. “Practice is cancelled today. Some kinda important Light Music Club thing. They’re even taking off lunch for it.”

“I see.” Adonis takes another bite of his food. “That is a shame.”

Kaoru continues: “Which is the only reason I’m here, obviously~? It’s such a drag to come down here just to relay information, y’know? I definitely wouldn’t bother if there was anyone else who could do it instead.”

“Yes,” Adonis agrees. “I assumed so.”

From Adonis’s other side comes a snort. And yeah, he really should’ve remembered Souma would be here too; somehow that guy always seems to make things more difficult.

“Was it truly necessary to so carelessly flaunt your intentions? It is not something to be proud of, being so lacking in motivation you can barely bring yourself to visit another member of your unit!”

Predictable. Kaoru shrugs, tamping down his irritation. “It’s not like this has anything to do with the club, so can’t you tone down the glaring already?”

“It may not be directly related but it is still evidence of your fatal lack of diligence...”

Adonis takes another bite and this time Kaoru pays attention.

“Whoa, that’s an amazing-looking bento.”

It’s nothing super fancy, but Kaoru knows good food when he sees it and this is stacked – croquettes covered in golden-brown crispy coating, pure-white mounds of soft juicy rice scattered with seasoning, big round meatballs covered in mouth-watering sauce and dotted with spring onion… And this is just what Adonis hasn’t already eaten his way through.

He licks his lips. “Damn, Adonis-kun – I never knew you could cook.”

“I am able to cook a few things,” Adonis responds, “but I don’t do it very often. This bento was made by Kanzaki.”

Wait, what? “Oh, uh – he’s making you bentos? Uh… huh.” He glances between them, feeling suddenly very awkward. “You guys are like that, then? Um. Good luck, I guess...”

“Yes, we are,” Souma says without a hint of irony. “However, there is no need to wish me luck. It makes no difference to me whether I make one bento or two.”

“No, I don’t think that’s what he meant...” Adonis says thoughtfully. “Still, it is as Kanzaki says – he brings me lunch because it isn’t inconvenient for him, and I enjoy it.”

Well...yeah, that makes more sense. He’s honestly not even sure why it actually seemed plausible for a moment. It must be something about the hair – it’s just way too easy to imagine Souma in that kind of a position, somehow?

Still, it’d be weird. He doesn’t even wanna think about the two of doing something like that.

“Right...yeah,” he says instead. “But man, you really are good at this, Souma-kun. I mean, everything you cook for Kanata-kun’s great too, so I shouldn’t be surprised – you’re seriously skilled.”

“Ah, thank you very much!” Souma smiles immediately. “However, I must admit that I am much less sure of my abilities in this area… the cooking itself I am satisfied with, but people these days seem to want bentos to be made with ‘kyarakutaa’ images, and I find it difficult to create visually appealing designs...”

Kaoru waves his hand. “Honestly, Souma-kun, don’t worry about all of that social media-ready image stuff – take it from me. That stuff can look cute all right, but bento lunches aren’t meant to be about all that.”

“How do you mean?” Souma asks earnestly.

“Well, bentos can be basically anything, right? If it’s in a box, it counts. But don’t you think the best foods for bentos are the ones that are, like… kinda basic?” He hadn’t expected this surge of certainty, but he feels oddly worked up. “Rolled-up omelettes, sushi – man, you even did the octopus weiner things! ...just: really homey, nostalgic stuff. Isn’t that what you wanna eat for lunch?”

Adonis and Souma are looking at him curiously. He feels uncomfortable all of a sudden, the slightest of lumps in his throat.

He’s getting a bad feeling, so he tries to shrug it off.“...I dunno, that’s just what I think, anyway.”

Souma hums. “No, I agree completely. A fine home-cooked meal can restore the spirits far greater than a technically capable one made by a stranger.”

“Mm,” Kaoru says. Yep, there it is – that all too familiar shitty feeling. “Sounds nice.”

He really doesn’t mean it in a bitter way, or at least doesn’t intend to. But apparently even Souma’s obliviousness has his limits because he immediately locks onto him with wide eyes.

“Hakaze-dono, do you not have anyone to cook for you…?” He looks over at Adonis, who looks up to Kaoru.

Great. Okay, no, he is not doing this, and especially not when he’s still getting weirdly choked up over a goddamn octopus weiner.

“It’s fine, really.” He shrugs, then offers something of a charming smile. “Trust me – I’m not exactly starving. And why would I need to eat at home when I can take a pretty girl out to a nice cafe any time I’d like~?”

Souma’s eyes twitch, but for once he doesn’t take the bait. “That is no substitute. As I am already making food for Adonis-dono, it is no matter at all to cook for you as well.”

Okay, that was a pretty goddamn sudden swerve in the conversation. “Cook… wait, you mean a bento?”

“Yes.” Souma looks as serious as always, all furrowed brow and firm mouth, but there’s something deeply worrying about the roundness of his eyes.

It’s… really not helping Kaoru’s choked up feeling, actually.

“...nah, no way.” He shakes his head emphatically. “Please don’t do that.”

“It won’t be any trouble,” Souma insists.

Adonis is still eating. Trapped in his chopsticks, soon transferred into his waiting mouth, is a picture-perfect rolled up omelette, looking for all the world like some new wife’s food blog photo come to life.

It’s been so long since he’s eaten anything like that.

“’S good,” Adonis mumbles.

Damn it.

“...fine,” he says with a defeated sigh. “Geez. If it were any other guy, I’d reject him in an instant, but… well, Souma-kun’s cooking is just that good, I guess.”

“Thank you very much!” Souma seems so genuinely pleased that Kaoru feels a little bad. “Please look forward to it tomorrow!”

“Sure, sure~” Finally he turns and leaves, waving over his shoulder.

Well, he sure as hell hadn’t expected all that when he walked in there.

He takes a moment for himself in the hallway, standing motionlessly by the wall. He isn’t looking at anything in particular, but he’s not thinking clearly, either – there’s only that tightness in his throat and chest, only now starting to ebb away.

Isn’t nostalgia supposed to feel good? he wonders.

Whatever. All of these annoying emotions aside, he’s seriously hungry now, so he really should head over to the cafeteria.

...which is almost certainly out of anything good.

Tomorrow’s bento better be the best thing I’ve ever eaten, he thinks with a scowl, walking sullenly over to the store for his bread.

*

The next morning, it takes longer than usual for Kaoru to wake up.

He lets the alarm ring on, vibrating uselessly on his bedside table while he keeps his eyes clenched shut.

He’d thought that by this point, he was over getting all weird and emotional over ordinary everyday things. The prospect that this is all still going on makes him feel enormously heavy, and he shuts off his alarm with the half-hearted plan of going right back to sleep.

So, that’s another thing he misses, apparently: home cooked meals. Fair enough, honestly. It’s more surprising that he hadn’t really thought about it properly until now.

And it would’ve just been one of those things that he saw and got kind of sad over, except Souma had to go and offer to cook something like that for him and now he feels – weird.

He reaaaally should’ve just rejected him properly yesterday.

He groans, rolling over to face the wall. It’s just...kinda frustrating? This whole thing is so close to being something really good. If a girl had been the one to gaze at him with such sincere concern, offering up her homemaking skills to make him feel a little less lonely, he’d be overjoyed. He can imagine what she’d be doing right now – apron on over her pajamas, neatly slicing up vegetables and taking little sips to check the sauce, ponytail bouncing as she hums while she works.

(He also really, really wishes he’d figured out this whole ponytail thing of his before he met Souma. He never would’ve expected that’d be something he was into, but it’s getting annoyingly undeniable.)

It’d be...nice. Just the thought makes his chest clench, and he pulls the blanket more tightly around him.

But it’s all just a fantasy. Souma might be pretty, but he sure isn’t a girl.

Still muddled and not quite entirely awake, Kaoru’s brain doesn’t gatekeep itself as easily as it usually does. He can admit it: Souma has always been a weird fixture in his life. For the life of him, he just cannot seem to forget about that one time he thought he was a girl. He doesn’t even look like one, really, and while Kanata might give off some kinda confusing androgynous vibes, Souma is masculine through and through.

It’s confusing, but any time he even starts to approach the realm of thinking about it, he finds himself backing up straight away. It’s like a force field of Nope, Not Gonna Go There. It’s not like he doesn’t have any idea why, but he’s more than happy to shut up, obey the warning signs and stay the hell out.

But then, he usually avoids thinking about his mom, too. And those should be entirely different categories of ‘do not enter’, but Souma had to go and offer to make him fuckin’ octopus weiners and now all sorts of chest feelings are going in places that they definitely do not belong.

Souma doesn’t even like him, anyway. He’s probably only cooking for him out of some sort of misplaced hardworking junior diligence.

And yet, despite it all, Kaoru has to admit it: he’s looking forward to it.

Ugh. Kaoru blinks his eyes open, wincing as his head thumps in protest. Yeah, this is beyond dumb. Eating bento another guy made for you isn’t exactly normal, but at a certain point it becomes weirder to obsess over it so much. He should just suck it up and eat the damn omelettes.

There’s a knock at his door.

The sound is so unexpected it takes Kaoru several seconds to process it.

“...what?”

“Hakaze-dono, may I come in?”

Absolutely no way.

He stares, completely bewildered. Is he dreaming? If this is actually his dream then those alarm bells in his head are going on fuckin’ overdrive.

He doesn’t speak for several seconds, which is apparently good enough as far as Souma’s concerned.

“I’m coming in.”

“H-hey!” Kaoru croaks, pulling the blankets over him again as – yep, that’s right! - Kanzaki Souma opens the door and enters his bedroom. “I never said you could!”

Souma raises his eyebrows. “I thought perhaps you’d fallen back asleep.”

As if this scene weren’t surreal enough already, Souma isn’t wearing his uniform. Yeah, the black shorts and grey sweatshirt are about as generic an outfit as Kaoru could imagine, but it’s sure as hell nothing he’s used to seeing Souma wearing. It looks… good on him?

Shit, Kaoru might actually be going off the deep end here.

“Why are you here?” he demands.

The dumbass doesn’t even react to his tone. He lifts up his left arm, currently bearing a navy blue furoshiki. “While I was cooking it occurred to me that since we aren’t in the same year, I might not have time to take this to you before lunch starts. I go jogging with Adonis-dono most mornings anyway, so it seemed more convenient to take it to you now.”

That… almost makes sense. Kaoru’s head hurts a little less.

“Is Adonis-kun here?”

Souma shakes his head. “Since it was quite the distance, I simply asked for directions.” Souma stretches out his arms behind his back. “Mm. It was quite an enjoyable workout.”

Belatedly, Kaoru lets his blankets drop; it’s not as though he has anything to cover up. But while he knows this intellectually this he still feels worryingly self-conscious.

“Okay.” He runs a hand through his hair. “You brought it. So...”

“Yes.” Souma doesn’t show any indication of leaving. Instead, looks over the room around him; Kaoru winces, predicting the comment moments before Souma voices it. “It’s quite messy in here.”

“Well, I’m busy,” he mumbles. “And if you’ll remember, I still never actually invited you in here.”

Again, Souma ignores him, still glancing over the piles of clothing and left-over magazines with a serious expression.

This is not a dream, but the alarms in Kaoru’s head are clanging at full force all the same. Thinking about Souma making lunch for him had been… uncomfortable. Souma hadn’t intended on intruding onto those deeply locked-up memories of his, but the intimacy line had been crossed regardless and Kaoru hasn’t figured out yet how to put everything back into their proper places. Seeing Souma in his bedroom, pondering over piles of laundry, is so far outside of acceptable that Kaoru is becoming actually scared.

Souma catches his eye.

Before he can react, Souma walks over to him. Still half-lying against the pillow, Kaoru can only watch as Souma leans over him, long hair trailing like the sash of a kimono against his sheets.

His voice is subdued, his brow furrowed. “Hakaze-dono, are you feeling unwell? You look rather pale...”

Kaoru’s chest isn’t tight. It’s pounding very, very heavily.

“Uh,” he mumbles.

He sees the hand coming towards him like a missile aimed directly at his heart. He has just enough time to imagine those warm fingers threading through his hair, heel pressed firmly against his forehead, before he frantically bats it away.

“No, no! I’m fine, ugh, just...” He wipes a hand over his face, groaning loudly, and flops back onto the pillow. “Gimme five more minutes...”

To his immense relief, Souma stands.

“Hmph. Are you the type who finds it difficult to wake up in the morning? Though I cannot say I relate to that myself...”

This is so, so bad. Everything about this situation has him on the back foot and he can’t stop investing every little thing Souma does with such unnecessary goddamn meaning.

He never wanted to think about him like this. Whatever kind of weird shit he has going on in his head, he’s always been one hundred percent certain what he was to Souma: that annoying senior who never follows the rules and is constantly giving him trouble. Kaoru only needs to be called a ‘disgrace’ once to get the picture.

He doesn’t want to see him with new eyes. He definitely doesn’t want to wonder whether Souma nags him and cooks for him and scolds him because he cares what happens to him.

“Perhaps this will help…!”

But even though he tells himself it’s gone far enough, the barrier drops. Through the gap between his fingers, Kaoru looks.

Before him, Souma flings open the curtains. It’s almost blinding, but Kaoru isn’t looking at the window.

Souma’s eyes flutter closed to the light, eyelashes skating against his cheeks. The shadows play over his skin, sending golden beams down the length of his hair as it is rustled by the wind. He glows with a brilliant gold, face lit up with reflected shine as his eyes drift open, glitter fading to deep purple. Looking out into the world, he smiles in satisfaction.

“Mmph,” Souma grunts, and Kaoru swallows deeply. “There is nothing like a cool breeze to wake one up in the morning…!”

He turns to Kaoru and the naked enthusiasm sends a rush through him all over again.

“Are you feeling better now?” Souma asks.

“...yeah,” he says.

Souma nods, lips twitching. “Then I am pleased. Do you often find it so difficult to wake? Is that the reason why you are so often late for class?”

“Um.” Kaoru feels utterly lost for words. “...maybe?”

“Hm. That is a problem.” Souma frowns for a moment but brightens almost immediately. “Perhaps I should come to wake you more often? Would that help?”

Kaoru stares. Souma wants to do all of this again. On a regular basis.

In utter disbelief, Kaoru starts to laugh.

“...was that a strange suggestion?” Souma asks, brow furrowed.

Kaoru ignores him, falling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.

Souma, coming to his room every morning to wake him for school? Cooking him lunch? Asking him with such wide eyes whether he’s well, if there’s anything he can do to help, should he stay with him until he feels better?

He doesn’t even know anything. He just...actually wants to do it.

If Souma were a girl, Kaoru would be over the moon. He cannot possibly, possibly accept this.

He wonders what his mom would think.

“Hakaze-dono?”

He thinks a lot about what his dad would say about things. He’s pretty sure he knows the look he’d give Kaoru if he knew about… well, anything he’s been feeling this morning.

Wondering about his mom is dangerous. It makes him think that maybe, she’d just want him to be happy.

“...fine,” he says.

Souma frowns. “’Fine’? What does that mean?”

“It means...” Kaoru shakes his head. Souma isn’t very good at picking up on emotional cues, but he suspects that right now even he couldn’t miss the significance Kaoru’s placing on this. “...yeah. That’d be...nice. You coming over sometimes.”

Souma doesn’t speak for a moment. When Kaoru finally lets himself look, Souma is smiling.

“That surprised me,” Souma says. “I didn’t think you’d want to spend any time with me – I didn’t think you liked me at all, honestly. But… if I can truly do something to help you, then I am happy.”

He didn’t think he could do that – make Souma happy.

“...that’s great.”

He looks really different when he smiles. Like this, he doesn’t give off the impression of some time-travelling soldier awkwardly cosplaying as an idol like he often does. Right now, Kaoru can believe that when he stands on stage, women fall in love with him.

After one more beat, Souma straightens.

“We should get going – if you don’t change soon, we’ll both be late.”

Oh god. “Wait, are we walking to school together?”

“I had planned on returning home first, but I lingered here longer than I expected… Luckily, I keep a spare uniform at school.”

Once again, Kaoru regrets everything.

“Okay, well.” He finally pushes the blankets off him completely and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “When we get close to the entrance you’re gonna have to go off ahead of me, you got that?”

Souma gives him a look that is somehow both thoroughly confused and distinctly displeased. It’s a relief to see something normal from him.

“You are not looking for an opening to run off and skip class, are you…?”

“No,” Kaoru says honestly. When he reaches the pile he’d thrown his uniform into, he pauses.

“Ah – I will let you change,” Souma says, backing out of the room, and Kaoru might be more thankful for that than he’s been for anything else Souma’s ever done in his life.

Kaoru’s not an idiot. He knows this whole emotional process Kaoru’s gone through this morning has been completely lost on him. He doesn’t know a single thing about Kaoru’s mom.

But the idea of telling him...doesn’t sound so bad.

*

The bento is amazingly good.

But the thing is: it actually doesn’t taste as familiar as he expected. Now that he thinks about it, his mom wasn’t really that great of a cook.

Souma doesn’t understand why he laughs then, either. Still, when he tells Souma how tasty it is, he lights right up.

Maybe this is kind of nice, too.